Waltz
by ehards29
Summary: And this is why they needed each other. To case away the demons they create. To waltz the days away. RoyxGracia. Don't flame me, I'm begging you!


**Ehards29:** Please don't kill me! Look I'm a Royai fan all the way, but I just couldn't get this idea out of my head. I am in no way condoning a Roy/Gracia relationship, I'm just curious as to how I think it would play out. So this is my attempt at just that. This is rated T for sex, so kiddies don't read this! Again don't kill me! P.S the song lyrics are from Ben Lee's song Apple Candy.

Disclaimer: I don't own FMA, thank God, I couldn't handle the responsibility…

Oh yeah and:

_Thoughts/song lyrics_

**Flashback**

_**Waltz**_

By: Ehards29

_I want to know what he knows  
I want to feel what he felt  
I want to go where he's been _

I want to know what he knows  
I want to hear your secrets  
I want you and I want him

**I. Music**

When they made love, he was able to suspend his disbelief, even for just a little while. When their tongues clashed in vengeance (one could hardly call it a kiss) he was able to forget where he was. But when they had finished, there was nothing left to shield him from the flood. When their sweat had finally cooled their super-heated bodies, there was nothing left to keep him from wanting to end it all. End it all and leave this world of pathetic mortals to enter the pearly gates, where his old friend would certainly be waiting for him, where his old friend would certainly damn him to hell. He lifts himself from the bed, his limbs shaking.

"Where are you going?" Her once radiant hair is glued to her pale, sickly neck.

"Home."

She knows there is no such place.

**II. Spinning**

When he first came to her front door, it was all she could do to keep from slapping him. The rain had matted his onyx hair, forcing him to appear something akin to a drowned rat, and the pity in his eyes begged her to blame him for a crime he didn't commit. She poured him a cup of tea, all the time he looked toward the ceiling, he knew Elicia was asleep, but he wanted to make sure. She didn't need to know what was going to occur, not now. Not now. In time she too would come to hate him for caressing a grieving widow. He hated it, but he needed it, he needed Maes to hate him. He needed a concrete reason, and she knew it. She needed to do this to him.

"This is good tea."

"Roy…"

"Not too bitter."

"Stop it."

**III. Dip**

She came at him hard and fast, with guns blazing. They were both so cold, so goddamn cold. _But soon we will be warm, together_. She tried to rationalize it. As he watched her eyes roll to the back of her head, he could hear his memories sing him a sweet Siren's song.

"**She's the one Roy, I just know!"**

"You didn't do this to him." She moans

He pushes her down to the couch again with a force that surprises even him, cupping her breasts in his hands, he kisses her neck. He pulls away with fear as her eyes bore into him. He has never seen the human body this venerable and it scares him. She is crying and all he can do it watch.

**IV. Whisper**

His nights are never restful. He writhes and tosses, turning his sheets into a sweat-filled mouse trap. He dreams that Maes kills him. He dreams that he beats him to a bloody pulp. He knees him in the stomach, punches him in the jaw, grabs him by the hair and breaks his nose with palm. All the while she watches him, always with those eyes, those emerald eyes. And as he dies, all he can utter is "Thank you". In the quiet moments while she waits for him to leave, he wants so badly to tell her of these dreams, but he knows she is already aware, for she has the same one every night.

**V. Laughter**

He knew that she put the pictures away before he came to make love to her. But one time he caught her in the act. She was in the bedroom, and as he emerged from the bathroom, he observed her with the photo of him and Maes as young men in her hand. Her eyes widened, she appeared to him to be a deer caught in the headlights.

"I'm s-so sorry Roy."

"It's ok."

"No, I don't want you to have to see this…"

"You think I don't remember where that picture hung above your wardrobe."

She is silent.

**VI. Interlude**

There was a time when she was considered beautiful, and he handsome. There was a time when her jade eyes sparkled with Maes's love, when his gleamed with the pride of a thousand woman suitors. Now when they observe themselves, they appear to be old, brittle and ugly. The body reflects the soul. Daily they try to justify it, they say they are each others warmth, they say they keep the tears at bay, but as they lay in the sea of sweat and sin, their defenses fail. They are cold and their cheeks stained with the salt of their tears. It reminds him so very much of a waltz, a never ending dance with two people curious about each other, but lacking the courage to see the truth. That their constant curiosity, their constant dance will eat up the rest of their lives trying to answer their constant questions. But he doesn't mind, they were both always good dancers, and if it lets him forget, even for a little while, he will continue to waltz, continue to hope Elicia is asleep, continue to dream, continue to taste her salty skin. And she the same, and this is why they needed each other. To case away the demons they create. To waltz the days away.

**Ehards29**: Review, but don't kill!


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